New Life
by Marajamama
Summary: Violet has figured out how to escape the Murder House, it's easy, don't come back on Halloween. No one knows what happens to her, all they know is they want in on it, too. Tate is left to mourn her, refusing to leave. A new family moves in, and Tate falls once more for a flower names girl. A flower named girl with a powerful gift...
1. Chapter 1

_**October 31, 2012**_

_**-Violet's P.O.V-**_

_I have been locked in this house for years. Centuries, it feels like. Tonight it my one night of freedom. The one night I can leave this shit hole and explore. Tonight, I will not return, and I will deal with whatever consequences this holds. I wait until the sun touches the sky on Halloween, and then I bolt. I look back at the house, one last glance, and see Tate in the window. His dark eyes are wet and rimmed with red, and he is biting the frayed sleeves of his striped jumper. I bite my lip, almost lose my resolve, but then turn back round towards the street. I hate him. At least, I want to. Halloween was our first 'date.' We went to the beach, he gave me a black rose. I remember this, and it stings like a slap to the face. I cannot live with him, or my mother, or my father any longer. I do not deserve this kind of death. My god, no one does. I will miss my parents, and although I haven't spoken to him in years, I will miss my Tate. I can only hope that he finds some kind of solace, some kind of peace in his after life. As for me, I will never go back. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>October 28, 2014. <strong>_

_**-Tate's P.O.V-**_

Violet left three years ago. No one knew what happened when you didn't return to the Murder house at dawn, we all assumed you'd just end up back here. What idiots we were. Violet figured it out, you know? She was always a smart girl. Always thinking strategically. She was miserable here, I knew that. We are all miserable here. She was the only one brave enough to never come back on our freedom day, and she was rewarded for it. My guess is she finally floated up to Heaven, where she belonged. Hayden likes to remind me that it's more likely she just..._poof..._dissapated. Now, everyone is leaving. Even if they do dissapate, they don't care. They only want out of here. Ms. Harmon didn't, though. She wanted to be close to her son, Michael. My cock-sucking mom has him next door. Her MO is fucked up kids, right? Charles Montgomery went, though. He hates Nora for what she did. She tried to kill his litte... Franken-baby concoction, then she offed him. He's insane, you know. Not like me, even worse. Anyway, he left the next year, after Violet. Beau didn't want to go, even though I asked him. He's too simple, too innocent, to want anything else. He doesn't know anything else but this fucking house.

Have I mentioned my mother is a cock-sucker? Larry, that fuckhead I set on fire, left right along with Charles. I was glad for that. I wanted to burn the other side of his face. He killed my brother. I hated him because he was weak, and a coward. Chad and Patrick, who _still _hate each other, are leaving on Halloween, too. Only Nora, Moira, Hayden, Beau, the Harmons and I will be left. The Harmons still hate me. At least, Ben does. Vivien felt gracious enough to forgive me after Violet left. I guess she felt how bad it tore me apart. I loved Violet. I was only trying to help...I don't _think _I'm a bad person.

_You only killed 15 innocent kids..._

I slammed my hand to my temple. Even in death the voices taunt me. I saw Ben for a few months, and it helped, but then I fucked up and ruined everything. Like I always do. I hated myself. I'm terrified that one day, I'll be the only one left. I used to think I wouldn't mind that so much, with Violet here but now... now it sounds like hell. Without her, I have no light. Most days, I don't leave the basement. I visit Beau, but, he doesn't talk much and he always wants to play with that stupid red ball. Hayden's worse than the voices. She taunts me even more. Always hitting a sore spot. I don't know why she's so fucking bitter, she got Mr. Harmon. He finally gave in. Vivien doesn't seem to care anymore. She plays with Michael and cares for him. My mother is always trying to find me. Always calling my name. I hate her, I _hate _her.

_Should have killed her when you had the chance..._

I groaned and dug my fingernails into my scalp. Without Violet, I had no center, no grounding. I was lost. Just like I was before she came. I had a girlfriend, before I shot all those kids. Her name was Lilah, and she was gorgeous, but nothing like Violet. I wonder, if I went out on Halloween and never came back, would I catch up with her? I wrapped my arms around my knees. Beau rolled me the ball but I didn't return it. Without warning, I jumped to my feet and stormed out of the attic. Moira looked concerned as I blew past her, but she knew I couldn't do any _real_ harm. I didn't want to, anyway. I wanted to be alone. I found myself in Violet's room. The 'I love you' was still written, fading, on her chalkboard. No one had bought this house, so no one had erased it. I locked the door behind me, although it would do no good, and slumped against the wall in a heap. I cried for her, my Violet.


	2. Chapter 2

_**October 31, 2014. **_

**-Tate's P.O.V-**

There were a lor of teary good-byes. Moira hugged Chad and Patrick. Mrs. Harmon had decided to leave, too. Despite Michael. Maybe that's why she had him over so often. So when she left, she'd only be a distant memory to him, but a memory all the same. She found me, in the basement. I was cross-legged against the wall, picking at the fray on my jeans. I didn't look up, but I knew it was her.

"If you don't go now, you won't have a chance for another year, Tate." Her voice was soft, motherly. I would use kind words with her, I decided. I wouldn't be harsh.

"No offense, Mrs. Harmon, but I don't want to go. Not now. Maybe, not ever. This is my home. I hate it, but I don't know what comes after." My dark eyes found her light ones, and she smiled sadly down at me. "Send me a post card, or something." I mumbled, my eyes finding my nervous hands again. I hated that she was so nice to me, she should hate me. Violet did.

"She's not going to come back, Tate. She's gone. Probably to some place far better. I miss her, my fearless daughter. I know you do, too."

I covered my ears. "Don't do that!" I half yelled, my voice hoarse with on coming tears. "Don't do that. You don't know that. What if there's nothing, huh?" I glared at her. "No bright light, no God. What if Violet and everyone else is just _gone_? No explanation."

She crossed her arms. Her lips were a tight line. "Whatever happens, it's better than being here, sulking." She smoothed the top of my matted blonder hair. "I know you love her. I love her, too. I had hoped she would forgive, like I had, but she's stubborn. Now she's gone, and I have to try to catch up to her. Ben will stay here." Her face morphed into a look of disgust. "Give him hell for me, Tate." She patted my shoulder and went back up to the living room. I would never see her again. I was slowly losing everyone. Even though, the guilt would ease itself if I didn't have to look at her everyday. I waited until dusk to go to my usual spot, the beach. I hoped those fuck heads from Westfield would leave me alone. I don't remember killing them, I swear.

_They sure as hell remember you..._

I collapsed in the sand, lying on my side. I would build a fire eventually, I had a little bit of time. I watched as the waves crashed on the rocks. I remembered Violet, again. She was so soft, so warm. Even after she died, she was warm. Everything about her. From her oversized sweaters to her carmel eyes. I stayed like that for a while. I built a fire and sat in front of it, not afraid to get to close. You can't die twice, right. The thought made me smirk. I began day dreaming about the day another family moved into the house. Would they be nice? Would they be smart? I chuckled to myself. If they didn't believe in ghosts when they came, they sure as fuck would after a week. We would scare them out, like we always did, so no one suffered like us. Although, after the Harmons, no one but two single woman bought the house. They both ran out, hair white, and sold it after six months. It would have been sooner if the agent could have managed it. When dawn began to stretch across the sky, I stood and made my way back to the house. I didn't bother putting out the fire. The waves would do the job.

Another Halloween spent alone, in a pile on the sand. I was pathetic. I had nothing. I came to the gates of the front yard and stepped through just as the sun really hit the sky. I was greeted by Nora, who was admiring the rising sun in the front yard, a shawl around her fragile shoulders. I had always admired Nora, she was delicate, but strong.

_Much like Violet, no? _

I shoved the thought from my head and forced a smile to Nora.

"Marvelous, just marvelous. I swear, it never gets old for me." Her blue eyes faced the sun almost directly. I stood beside her. "Oh, Tate. How lonely you must be. I was _glad _when Charles left. But you must be devastated." She wrapped one end of her shawl around my shoulders. "You've always been a sensitive boy." I smiled down at her, and she returned to it.

"Thanks Nora, for being so great."

She dimpled at me. "Not a problem, m'boy. Not a problem."

We walked back inside the Murder House for another damned year.


	3. Chapter 3

_**September 1, 2014**_

**-Tate's P.O.V-**

Another family is moving in. Moira told me. She hasn't stopped cleaning since the real estate lady told her. Moira is the only one who gets to talk to live people. They all think she's the house keeper, alive and well. Everyone is saying we'll have to scare them out. Especially since they have a young girl, Violet's age, with them.

_Why don't you make friends, hm? Maybe she'll love you like Violet did..._

I buried my head in my knees, willing the voice to go away. No one could love me like Violet. No one could amount to Violet. And anyway, this girl was probably the same as every other L.A 16 year old. Stuck up, selfish, rich.

_Just like the ones you shot? Maybe you could do this one a favor...smother her..._

I let a small yell escape my lips. I was frustrated. I was _pissed_. I hated listening to the voice, but it was always there. I tried to kill it one time, I was banging my head against the basement wall. Nora stopped me. She always been kind like that.

_Kind...by putting a bullet in her husband's head? Interesting..._

"Nora's a nice lady!" I screamed. She appeared in front of me. With a distasteful glance, she sat on the grimy steps of the basement.

"Oh, Tate. Is it bothering you again?" She fretted over me.

"It always bothers me." I whispered. "A new family is moving in." My eyes lifted to hers.

She nodded sadly and folded her hands in her lap. Nora came from wealth when she was alive, the fine breeding didn't leave her, even in death.

"Yes I believe there is. Not much of a family if you ask me. No father, just a girl and her mother. They shouldn't be too hard to scare out. It's always easier when women are involved." She offered me a reassuring smile, but I just slumped against the wall.

"Are you hoping she will be like Violet, Tate? She won't. No one will be like Violet. Not for you, child. We must get her out of this place...she can't die here." She reached inside her pocket and pulled a sqaure of linen from it. With a finger she lifted my chin and dabbed at my eyes. "There. You are far too handsome to shed tears. Where's the spunky Tate that I know, hm?"

"He died." I laughed internally at my own joke. Nora frowned at me.

"Perhaps he will arise again, in time." She kissed my forehead and disappeared. For once, the voice didn't taunt me. Nora always had that effect. My real mother, on the other hand, did the exact fucking opposite. I had no doubt she would be snooping around as soon as the new family got settled in. If I had to scare them away. I would scare her away, too.

_**September 10, 2014**_

**-Tate's P.O.V-**

The moving vans pulled up at dawn. We all watched, invisible, from the windows. Men were hauling boxes in and out of the house. We still hadn't set eyes on the new family, though. Moira was everywhere. Muttering about what pigs we were while telling the moving men where to put the boxes. I scoffed. As if she knew these people. At around noon, a small, powder blue car pulled into the driveway. The older woman, I'd say in her 40's thanked the men as they left. The girl, looking sullen, dragged her feet inside the house. We all hid somewhere, which was stupid. They couldn't see us if we didn't want them too.

"Would you just _look _at this house, Lily? It's brilliant! It's my dream home, in the flesh." The woman's voice was femenine, but husky. I floated down into the living room to get a better view of the pair. The older woman was tall, lean, tan. She had long, dark hair past her ass and striking green eyes. Her finger nails were long and sharp. I noticed that.

_Maybe she's a killer like you. _

I bit my lip until it bled. The voice wanted me to scream, so they would hear me, so they would leave. I didn't want them to leave yet. My eyes found the girl, Lily, she called her. Lily was tall, too. Willowy, she reminded me of a tall flower that swayed in the wind. She wasn't taller than me, though. Her hair was dark, too. Except it was a dark red, and it was only to the middle of her back. She had a smattering of light freckles across her nose. It was weird. Because her skin was dark. Her eyes were almost yellow. She was the strangest person I'd ever seen. Which is saying something, you know. Because I fucking kill people, so nothing really strikes me as strange. Lily seemed pissed that she was here. She didn't seem like a brat though.

"Mama, this house is haunted." She said bluntly. I froze.

"Of course it's haunted, Lily. Why should that bother you? Maybe you'll make new friends. Now, go find your room. They should have moved your boxes up there." The woman with the long fingernails pointed up the stairs. These people were fucking nuts, I thought. I wondered how everyone else felt about them knowing it was haunted. This would make it a whole lot harder to 'scare them out.' I grinned like a ghoul. Maybe I could scare Lily.

I found her in Violet's old room, staring at the chalk board.

"So you wrote this, then." She said. At first, I thought she was talking to herself. But she turned her yellow eyes on me. I froze.

"Yeah, I wrote it." I replied. I leaned on the door frame, smirking at her.

"Who was it for?"

"Isn't that a little personal, Lily?"

"You were going to try to scare me, weren't you? I wouldn't say that's a good idea."

My smirk faltered. I moved closer to her, my eyes only inches away from hers.

"Why are your eyes yellow?" I asked.

"Same reason your's are brown." She countered. She stared at me, challenge in her eyes.

I moved a strand of red hair behind her ears and gave her a grin.

"You'll be seeing more of me, Lily." I murmured. Her eyes flickered for only a second, but she recovered.

"I'm sure I will." I noticed that her lips were full, and soft. I winked at her, and then disappeared. Right in front of her.

_poof. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**September 12, 2014**_

**-Tate's P.O.V-**

Every spirit remaining in the house had a meeting in the basement. They were all freaking out that the new family knew we were dead, and trying to haunt them.

"Macy Day and her daughter, Lily Day." Nora said, clutching her shawl around her shoulders. "Both of them, they know. They know we're here. They don't seem at all perturbed that we're both dead and in their home."

"It's not their home!" I bit out, glaring into the space behind her. "It's ours. It's always been ours. They are in our territory." I muttered darkly.

"Well they're not going to be scared so easily, Tate." Nora replied, her voice hardening. "I don't think we should try at all this time, to be perfectly honest."

Moira's soft, elderly voice piped in. "I'd quite enjoy not having to hide myself every damn day until it's time for me to clean."

Hayden gazed, bored, at us. Her eyes turned spiteful at the mention of not being able to torment anyone. "I say we try. What, two bitches move in, know we're dead, and suddenly we've lost our balls? You're all pussies."

Usually, I was indifferent to Hayden. She was a slut and a bimbo, not worth my time. This time, though, her words filled me with rage. I pushed her against a wall and held her there, my arm against her throat.

"If I could kill you, I would. If you were alive, I would stick an ice pick in both of your fucking eyes."

"Oooh, look who got some spunk back in him. I guess you're out of your funk then, lover boy? Finally over Violet leaving your pathetic ass?" She smiled a sinister smile.

"That's enoguh, Hayden!" Mr. Harmon piped up. He pulled me off of her and snaked an arm around her shoulders.

"I think we all agree," He sent a pointed look at Hayden "To not scare these people. Not yet. Let's try to co-exist peacefully."

"Why do they know we're dead. How can they see us, even when we're trying to stay invisible?" I asked, my arms crossed over my chest. I didn't lift my glare from the ground.

"Perhaps they're special, hm?" Nora answered. I snorted.

"Special. How?"

Moira raised an eyebrow at me. "Surely if we can be ghosts, they can be gifted. Don't be stupid, Tate. You're better than that." She clasped her frail hands together. "So. we've agreed to be kind to these people," another pointed glare towards Hayden "Or at least co-exist peacefully. Wonderful. If you'll excuse me, I have some cleaning to do." With that, she dissapated away.

"Well, I'm rather excited, myself." Nora said. "Maybe Ms. Day and I can discuss decorating ideas. They fully restored the house, although that hideous kitchen..." she trailed off, moving up the stairs and into the main rooms.

Mr. Harmon and Hayden were discussing in muted tones how Hayden should behave herself. They disgusted me. How the hell Mr. Harmon could be that much of a fuck head was beyond me, but I guess all pretenses are off when you're dead. I found it morbid that he killed Hayden, and she in turn killed him and yet, here they were, in a relationship. That's some morbid dedication. I decided that I would spend my day watching Lily. Even if she could see me, I could pretend that she didn't. If she called me out, who cares? I'm dead. Nothing really bothers me anymore. I made my way up to her room. She was sitting, facing the dominating window, listening to soft music and meditating. At least, that's what it looked like to me. Her eyes were closed. I took this as my oppurtunity to sneak into her bathroom.

"What are you doing in my room?" Her voice was level. She didn't even bother turning to look at me.

I froze in the middle of her room and let out an exasperated groan. "I thought I'd watch you." I shoved my hands in my pockets and leaned against her dresser. She cut the music off and turned around on her bed to face me. She did not look pleased. I couldn't help but smirk at her.

"Meditation, right? Shit never worked for me." I commented.

"Obviously. You shot up a school." Her words were harsh, but her tone wasn't. Still, I narrowed my eyes at her.

"How do you know about that?" I demanded. She shrugged.

"I have my ways. Why would you want to watch me, aren't you supposed to be busy scaring me out?" She looked bored. As if I couldn't possibly scare her. It lit a fire in me, one I hadn't felt in a while.

"We decided that we would let you stay. Awfully big of us, I think." I gave her a sweet smile. She only raised a single eyebrow. I tried avoiding her eyes, but they were striking. They looked like cat's eyes, in color and shape. I bit my lip lightly.

"Funny, I thought it was us allowing you all to stay. We could easily get rid of you, don't ever forget that." I stood straight, my fists out of my pockets, balling up at my sides. Her words made me want to hurt her. "Come on, Tate. Try it. I would rip you to shreds." That sent me over the edge. I lunged for her throat but was met head on by a force I cannot describe. It knocked me back against the dresser on the otherside of the room. When I had gathered myself, Lily was standing over me, offering a hand.

"I trust you won't be so stupid as to try that again, yes?" She quipped.

I grinned like a fool at her. "How in the hell did you do that?" I took her hand and stood. Her yellow eyes glimmered with a hint of mischeif.

"I'm very strong Tate. If you promise to _never again_ try to hurt me, I'll show you how."


	5. Chapter 5

**-Lily's P.O.V-**

This house was running rampant with spirits. I told my mother, but she didn't seem to mind. I reminded her that spirits could be very troublesome, but she refused to move them and instructed me, quite sternly, to be kind to them. I promised that I would. Tate was making that difficult. He was intrigueing thought and, I'll admit, handsome. His fair skin and light, perpetually messy hair, clashed with his dark eyes. The bags under them made me want to wrap him in a warm blanket and force some rest on him, but he was a ghost. It would do no good. I thought on this as I meditated, facing the window, my face bathed in sunlight. I was warm, content. This house felt cold when we first moved in, but slowly we were filling it with warmth. If we didn't shoo away the ghosts, surely the constant feelings of peace and love would. It was then that I felt him. Of course I felt him. I feel everything. I didn't bother with turning towards him, he would know I was speaking to him.

"What are you doing in my room?" I asked. I didn't allow my voice to portray any emotion. I wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of getting a rise out of me. He sounded disappointed, but not surpised.

"I thought I'd watch you." I turned around to face him finally, a frown on my features. "Meditation, right? Shit never worked for me."

"Obviously." I quipped. "You shot up a school." I knew that before we moved into the house. I had a vision about it the night before the moving men unloaded our things from our old home to bring them to this one. His expression darkened, his dark eyes narrowing at me.

"How do you know about that?"

I shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "I have my ways. Why would you want to watch me, aren't you supposed to be scaring me?" I examined my nails, picked at my comforter. The last thing any of these spirits did was scare me. Especially him, even if he did shoot up a school. I was afraid of nothing. I knew my own power.

"We decided that we would let you stay. Awfully big of us, I think." His tone was sarcastic, he sweet smile came off as smug. I raised an eyebrow at him, chuckling to myself. He honestly thought that he and his friends were doing us a favor. Oh, if he only knew just what I could do. He avoided my gaze, but not before I willed him to look at me. I doubt he even knew that was why. I wanted him to be stricken by me.

"Funny," I replied "I thought it was us allowing you to stay. We could easily get rid of you, don't ever forget that." He stood, angry at my words. That was fine, he could do his absolute worst and do no harm at all. "Come on, Tate. Try it. I would rip you to shreds." I taunted. His eyes turned murderous. A small, sure smile claimed my mouth as he lunged for me. I lifted a single hand and blasted him back into my dresser. Before he could gather himself, I was standing in front of him, extending a helping hand.

"I trust you won't be so stupid as to try that again, yes?"

He grinned at me. His dimples stirred something around in me, but I pushed it down. I would not fall for a psychotic ghost.

"How in the hell did you do that?" He asked, amazed.

"I'm very strong, Tate. If you promise to never again try to hurt me, I'll show you."

We ended up in the back yard. It was secluded enough. Tate sat cross legged in the middle of the gazebo. I stood in the grass, facing him. I played with the fall leaves, making them ride on wind I had concocted with my mind. They swirled and spun in front of his amazed eyes, and he smiled a dumb smile of wonderment. He looked younger, almost childlike. Gently, I pushed them higher and higher, and allowed them to tumble down to the grass and rest there.

"How do you..." He started

"My mother is a Supreme. One of the most powerful witches around here. She mothers a coven. Supremes have power over the seven wonders, and because I am her offspring, so do I. I can do a lot of things." I joined him at the gazebo, sitting beside him. Our knees touched. He picked at the fray around the holes in his worn jeans.

"You are powerful." He murmured. "Is that why your eyes are yellow? You're interesting to look at."

I felt heat gather in my cheeks and scolded myself for it internally. "Yes, that's why my eyes are yellow, and I suppose why I'm interesting to look at, too."

Tate grinned. "So you're not afraid of me at all, then?"

"Not in the least." I confirmed.

"Cool."

I looked at him curiously. "Why is that cool? Don't you want me to be afraid of you?"

"I did." He nodded. "But not now."

I glowered at him. "Why, so I can amuse you with my gifts? Because I won't. I'm not a freak show." I bit out defensively.

His expression was suddenly sober, serious. A little offended. "No. I would never ask you to use your powers to amuse me, Lily." He played with my index finger as he said so, and it made me squirm. His eyes met mine, and he smiled the smallest of smiles. His sudden sincerity had taken me off guard. Vaguely, I felt my mother watching me, pleased, from the kitchen window.

"Why did you shoot those kids, Tate?" I asked after a moment of mutual silence. I don't know why. I might be arrogant, but insensitive I was not. The words escaped me before I could stop them.

"The world is a nasty, filthy place. All it is, is suffering. I wanted to take those kids out of it. Send them to someplace nice, and clean." He glanced at me. "I didn't have so stable of a mind. I've had years to regret it now." He laughed without humor. "Plus I had a major coke problem. It probably didn't help my mind. I heard, hear, voices." He pressed a single finger in his tangles of hair. "In my head." He added hoarsely. I took his hand away from his head and set it in my lap.

"Do you hear them now?" I asked. He lifted his eyes to me again.

"No." He murmured.


	6. Chapter 6

**-Lily's P.O.V-**

We were in the attic. Tate was rolling a red ball across the room to something I couldn't see. I could feel it though. Its soul was innocent, so it didn't alarm me. Nothing really alarmed me, anyway. Tate had stopped trying to spook me. He figured out that he couldn't pretty quickly. For a couple of days he took it as a personal challenge but gave up, put out by my alert and calculating nature. I couldn't help it.

"What else can you do, Lily?" Tate asked. I was pacing the dusty, moth filled attic and looking at the random objects from previous owners.

"A lot of things. I don't have time to explain them all." I stopped pacing and walked over to Tate, sitting beside him. "Maybe over time, I can show you them all."

He nodded. The red ball came towards me and I stopped it just before it reached my knees. Without touching it, I rolled it back to the shadows. Tate grinned at me, a little cavern forming at the corners of his mouth, drilled into his cheek. He was breathtaking, I could admit that. Not hard to look at in the least. I noticed, far too late, that I had been staring at him too long. He set a hand on my knee.

"What are you thinking about, Lily?" His features sobered for a moment, and then formed into a cocky smirk. "Were you thinking about me?" He put his nose only inches from mine. My breathing hitched.

"Maybe." I murmured. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind me ears, his cold fingers grazing my cheek. I felt heat rush to my face and I took a small step back.

"I'm going to go." I whispered, and flew down the attic stairs.

"Where are you goin?" Tate called after me, but I ignored him. I had never had someone take me off guard like he did. It made me uncomfortable. I needed time, and room, to think. I passed my mother in my flight to my room, she whirled around to follow me and stopped at my closed bedroom door.

"Lily? Are you alright?" She asked through the wood.

"Fine, mama. Meditating!"

She didn't bother answering. I heard her soft footsteps turning away from my room and down the hall. My mother understood completely. She always did. I reached into a small wooden chest, engraved with my initials, and pulled out my jar of healing stones. Carefully, I set them in a circle around me and sat facing East on the floor of my bedroom.

After a few hours, I felt eyes on me. I felt Tate. He was hiding in the bathroom, watching me, not making himself seen or heard. I sighed, replaced my crystals into their hallowed spot, placed them back in my chest, and turned towards the open bathroom door.

"You can come out, Tate."

He appeared, looking like a lost puppy, in the middle of my room. I perched myself at the end of my bed and stared at him. My gaze must have made him nervous. He picked at the loose threads hanging from the end of his sweater sleeves.

"I didn't mean to make you mad, Lily." He whispered. His dark eyes held no sign of jest or mirth. They looked serious, urgent. "I would never want you to be mad at me."

"I wasn't mad at you, Tate. Come sit with me, okay?" He did so without speaking. We sat side by side on my bed, not touching. It was painfully silent for a few moments before I took a deep breath and turned towards him.

"Listen to me, okay Tate? I am not a warm person. I am not outwardly kind or..." I bit the corner of my bottom lip, searching for the right words. "Sometimes...I feel cold. And you, you make me feel...not so cold..."

He reached for my hand and I let him hold it.

"And, that's unusual for me. It...it frightens me, actually." The realization hit me as soon as I thought of the words, and I bit my lip again.

Tate rested his thumb against my lips and pulled it out of the grip of my teeth.

"Don't worry, Lily. I understand." He traced my mouth. I closed my eyes. I shivered.

"Do you want me to go away?" He asked, voice trembling. My eyes flew open. I had to calm myself before answering.

"No, no of course not. I like you, Tate. You just...frazzle me. You're going to take some getting used to."

He smiled that smile that made his dimples so prominent, and I scooted back a little.

"Lily...do you know anyway to help dead people? Get them to move on to the next life? We think Violet figured it out, not returning on Halloween, but they all want to go now. They don't want to wait a whole year..." His brow crumpled. I itched to smooth it out, but refrained. "I want to help them. They're like family."

"Of course." I stood and dug around under my bed. After a second, I felt the cool, worn leather of a luggage trunk. It was from the 20's, and it was one of my favorite things to hide stuff in. I slid it out from under my bed and unlatched it, revealing a book even older than the trunk itself. Centuries old.

"This," I announced, lifting it from its resting place "is the Day Family Spell Book." I set it on the bed delicately and flipped a few pages, searching for the spell I needed. I found a ritual.

"My mother and I are part Native American, so a lot of these rituals are from Cherokee tradition and law."

"The indians believed that blood holds all the bad spirits, and once a month in ceremonies they would cut themselves to let the spirits go free." Tate replied, gazing out of my window into the fading sunlight.

"Yes I've heard of that." I mumbled. "This says that we need to get a smudge stick burn it in a turtles shell, starting at the front door and going right. I'll need to recite a prayer and the spirits, they should be gone." I closed the book and looked up at Tate, whose eyes had filled with terror.

"I don't want to go yet, I just met you."

My stomach flipped. I didn't want Tate to go, either. He grabbed my hands with a sense of urgency and I swallowed, nervous at his intensity.

"I don't know if I want to know what comes yet, Lily."

"You don't want to see if there's a God?" I asked, my voice small. He shook his head slowly.

"We'll figure something out, Tate. I promise."

A tiny thought wiggled it's way into my head.

_You're the daughter of a Supreme. Surely you can bring something back to life..._

But I pushed it away. Not without the sacrifice of another life! I scolded myself.


End file.
